


Wild Thing

by PyrrhaIphis



Series: Holiday Fics [1]
Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween treat, M/M, Monster Movie, Monster mash, Swearing, Zombie, movie-making, wolfman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrrhaIphis/pseuds/PyrrhaIphis
Summary: Curt is making a rock opera monster movie, but he doesn't like the role he's playing.  At least Arthur is with him to provide support (and romantic distraction)!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Due to being in a rush to get this up before Halloween, I haven't spent as much time editing and re-writing as I normally prefer to. So there might be errors I would normally catch. If you spot any, please let me know so I can fix them.
> 
> (And, btw, the "M" rating was just for Curt's foul mouth. As per usual.)

            Hands and clothes smeared with grave dirt, the ponytailed blond man lurched unsteadily across the uneven terrain of the graveyard.  The drying streaks of reddish-brown liquid that edged his face glinted in the sun, as did the protruding bit of brains above his ear.  His grubby bare feet snagged on something momentarily, causing him to stumble sideways, pitching into a gravestone, which nearly collapsed under his weight.  Righting himself, he staggered onwards, adding in some low, rumbling moans as he went.

            As his black, bloodshot eyes lit upon the tall, handsome Englishman sitting on a nearby bench reading a newspaper, he stopped, then set off shambling towards him, arms raised, producing heavy groans.  Reaching the man, he threw himself upon him, shoving the newspaper aside so that he could chew on the man’s throat.

            “Oi, get off!” Arthur shouted, swatting him with the newspaper.  “Quit it, Curt!  God, what a stench!”  He shoved Curt away from him and rubbed at his neck with one hand.  “What the bloody hell is that make-up made from to make it smell that bad?” he asked, looking at the black and red goop that had been left behind on his skin.

            “A zombie _should_ smell bad,” Curt pointed out, with a roguish grin.  Thankfully, they hadn’t gone so far as to apply disgusting fake teeth.

            “A zombie should smell like rottin’ flesh, not like bein’ over-exposed to ink that’s gone off.”  Arthur shook his head as he took his glasses off and stowed them safely away in his pocket.  “Furthermore, isn’t a zombie supposed to go after brains, not throats?”

            “Not my fault they wouldn’t let me be the vampire,” Curt replied, with a bit of a pout.

            Arthur laughed.  “It wouldn’t be fair to take that role away from Alice.  After all, he already had the perfect costume.”

            “But I’m sexier than he is!”

            “That goes without saying, my love.  But where is it written that a vampire’s supposed to be sexy?”

            Curt shrugged.  “ _Dracula_?” he suggested.

            “I don’t recall the book sayin’ anything about him being sexy.”

            Curt sighed sadly, shaking his head.  “I still don’t see why I have to be a stupid fucking _zombie_ ,” he complained.  “After all, this movie was _my_ idea!”

            “It’s your own fault for refusin’ to play the wolfman.”

            Curt flopped down onto the bench beside his lover.  “Did you see all the shit they were gonna put over my face for that?  Looked like it weighed ten pounds!”

            Arthur shrugged.  “I’m sure you’re capable of supporting the extra weight.”

            “Yeah, not my point.”  Curt shook his head.  “What’s the point of making a movie if no one’s gonna see your face?”

            “I don’t think they’ve re-cast the role yet.  Maybe they’d be willing to add a new scene where you’re human, before you see the full moon,” Arthur suggested.

            “I’m not so sure they haven’t already given the part to Ozzy,” Curt sighed.  “But maybe it’s worth a try.  At least then I wouldn’t be wearing these fucking contact lenses.  My eyes are gonna be hurting for days.

            “And now you know why I won’t wear them,” Arthur chuckled.  “Let’s go talk to the director.”

            Curt nodded, and they both got up and headed back in the direction of the trailer that doubled as the production headquarters and the make-up studio.  They found him standing outside the trailer, talking to some of the zombie extras.

            The director looked at Curt with dismay as they reached him.  “What _have_ you done to your make-up?” he asked.  “We were going to do a run-through as soon as everyone was ready!”

            “About that, I was wondering if it was too late to change my mind,” Curt told him.  “Being a zombie sucks,” he said, making Arthur hide a quiet snicker.  “I thought I might play the wolfman after all, but only if you give me a scene as a human first—and a sex scene!”

            “A sex scene?” the director repeated, incredulously.  “Where would we put one of those?”

            “I don’t care.  But I want a sex scene,” Curt insisted, putting his arm around Arthur and pulling him into the conversation.  “With Arthur.”

            “No bleedin’ way am I gonna be in your movie—and especially not in a sex scene!” Arthur shouted, shoving away from Curt.  “Leave me out of this nonsense!”

            The director cleared his throat.  “We might be able to find a way to give you a brief sex scene with a girl, but the audience would never accept one with a man,” he told Curt.

            Curt sighed exaggeratedly.  “Never mind then.”

            “As far as your other demand goes, it should be easy to arrange.  We can have the moon come out from behind the clouds _after_ your big introductory song, so you transform on screen, instead of already being in wolfman form for the song.”

            “How could anyone sing with all that shit on their face?”

            “You’d just be lip syncing to your previously recorded vocal,” the director said, with a chuckle, “not trying to sing with the prosthetics in place.”

            “I’m not good at that.”  In fact, his music videos tended to depend on live concert footage.

            “It’s industry standard, but if you want to try recording the song live for the camera, I suppose I can allow it.  So long as you can nail it in one or two takes.  Any more than that and it’ll be counter-productive.”  He shrugged.  “Go on and get out of the zombie make-up, then.  If you’re going to be the wolfman, you won’t be filming until tomorrow.”

            Curt went into the trailer, dragging Arthur after him.  Once inside, he removed his make-up and colored contact lenses while the technicians were busy applying the final touches to the necromancer’s dramatic, Fu Manchu-like get-up.  Then he quickly changed back into his street clothes, and the two of them left the trailer.

            By the time they got back to the park bench where Arthur had been sitting, the crew were getting ready to shoot the first run-through of the zombie scene, so they decided to sit down and watch.  In the first part of the scene, the zombies crawled up out of their graves and stumbled around a bit, until they suddenly broke out into a song about having returned from the dead.  Then the scene ended with the necromancer arriving and telling them that they were his undead army, and they would be needed to fight the forces of the vampire and the sorceress.  The zombies—inarticulate once more—moaned out their understanding of their orders, and began to shamble off after their master.

            As soon as they started doing a second run-through, Curt and Arthur got up and headed back into town.  It had been cheaper to film in a small town in the middle of Nowhere, Ontario, than it would have been to rent studio space in New York, but the people of the town didn’t seem sure if they were cool with having the movie film there or not.  The hotel loved them.  Of _course_ the hotel loved them; they were renting the whole thing.  Everyone else didn’t seem as excited, and at the last minute the town council had told them they couldn’t film in the cemetery, so they’d had to make their own out of plywood and whatnot.  Curt didn’t much care for the B-movie feel the fake gravestones were going to give the picture, but Arthur insisted that it would be an improvement over using a real cemetery.

            They were arguing about that—for the second or third time—as they entered the hotel and headed for their room.  The hotel staff cast sidelong glances at them as they passed.  This being a small town, they apparently weren’t accustomed to two men wanting to share a hotel room.  That was okay:  Curt and Arthur were used to being stared at.

            As soon as they were alone in their room—the “Do Not Disturb” sign having been carefully placed on the doorknob—Curt grinned and took Arthur in his arms.  “So now I’m free until tomorrow morning,” he said.  “We’ll just have to find something to do to take up all that time…”

            “You can start by takin’ a shower,” Arthur told him firmly.  “You still reek.”

            Curt sighed.  “That’s not very romantic, Arthur.”

            “Neither is the way you smell right now.”

            “Fine, I’ll take a fucking shower!  But you’re gonna wash my back for me!”

            Arthur smiled widely.  “Fine by me, love.”

            They were soon in a hot and steamy shower together.  As Curt was lathering up his hair to get the stage blood residue out of it, he turned to look at Arthur.  “Do you think I did the right thing, changing roles?” he asked.

            “They did _write_ the wolfman for you, Curt,” Arthur pointed out.  “After all, who else in the cast was raised by wolves?”

            Curt laughed, then rinsed his hair.  “Did I get it all out?” he asked.

            “Here, let me check.”  Arthur pushed the dark blond hair back and forth, turning Curt slightly so he could check the back, too.  “Looks fine.”  He lowered his head slightly to give his lover a passionate kiss.  “As do you.  My own wildman.”

            Curt smiled at him, then pulled him close for an even more passionate kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know there are about ten million things wrong with the way the movie is being made. It's just a really amateurish production...? (More like I preferred my silly story to reality...)
> 
> I might, in theory, try to add to this someday (maybe next Halloween?) but I can't be certain. Mostly, I just wanted to write something fun and goofy for Halloween. :P
> 
> I had a certain song in mind for the zombies to sing, only when I stopped to think about it, I realized it was from the Spinal Tap reunion album, so it wasn't an option for a movie being made in the mid-1980s. :( Thus, vagueness.


End file.
